


This used to be my childhood dream

by freakish



Series: Inside is not a heart, but a kaleidoscope [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Compliant, Consensual Underage Sex, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23998420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freakish/pseuds/freakish
Summary: This is Steve, trying to figure out himself and life and Bucky, and how those things fit together.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Inside is not a heart, but a kaleidoscope [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761184
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	1. Playground

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Jam (GnomeWithALaptop)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GnomeWithALaptop) and [Lise (thissugarcane)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thissugarcane) for beta help. This story is SO much better due to their suggestions and corrections. All remaining errors and poor word choices are mine.
> 
> Fic and chapter titles from “This Used to Be My Playground” by Madonna, because iTunes shuffle is better at picking titles than I am.

They sleep in the same bed sometimes, with Bucky wrapped around Steve because Steve is cold pretty much year round, even sometimes in the summer, which is absurd. 

It doesn’t happen a lot (at least not when Steve is healthy), so Steve commits every detail to memory to get him through to the next time. The exact speed and temperature of Bucky’s breath on the back of his neck. The way one hand is always holding his, their fingers twined together. How Bucky’s arm feels when it’s secure across Steve’s chest.

Steve doesn’t remember how they got started with that, but he’s definitely the one who starts the kissing.

They’re at Steve’s place after school and Steve’s ma isn’t home and he looks at Bucky next to him and then just leans over and kisses him because he’s been thinking about this so long that he can’t help himself. He knows it’s stupid and that Bucky’s maybe going to punch him (but probably not because Bucky wouldn’t ever hurt him). 

Bucky tenses up and he reaches for Steve’s chest like he’s getting ready to push him away, but then he... doesn’t. 

It’s enough for Steve just to have their mouths pressed together. He’s thought about other things of course, but this is more than he ever expected to actually get. He memorizes the way Bucky’s lips feel against his so it’ll stay with him forever and the weight of Bucky’s hand on his hip, which he hadn’t noticed until just now.

He definitely notices when Bucky uses that hand to pull Steve closer and how Bucky’s other hand is on Steve’s shoulder, pulling him closer still, but he’s so stunned by it that he’s slow to react when Bucky starts to really kiss him.

Bucky’s kissed girls before and Steve’s never kissed anyone, so he follows Bucky’s lead. When Bucky angles his head a little, Steve mirrors him. When he feels Bucky’s tongue against his lips, he can’t do anything except open his mouth to let him in. It’s the most amazing thing he’s ever felt until he runs his tongue along Bucky’s and that is somehow even better.

They eventually have to pull apart for air and Bucky is breathing fast, the way Steve does when his heart is beating irregularly. Steve’s breathing is heavy, more like an asthma attack, and he worries for a second that he’s actually having one, but his lungs feel okay. When he opens his eyes, Bucky’s looking at him and for almost the first time ever, Steve doesn’t know what Bucky is thinking. 

But then he blinks and shakes his head and backs away — and Steve figures it out.

~~~~~

Bucky doesn’t come around the next day the way he usually does.

Steve can’t think about anything except how to get Bucky back. (And the kiss itself, which was the best thing that ever happened to him for the two seconds before Bucky took off.) He’s never begged for anything in his life. He doesn’t even like to ask for things, though he’s had to learn to swallow his pride and do it sometimes because there’s a depression and they need to eat.

But he’ll beg Bucky to forgive him. No question.

Steve's dad died before he was born, so his ma has been his whole family all his life. He loves her more than he can say and he knows she loves him, absolutely and unconditionally. If he’s being honest though, which he always tries to be, he can admit that Bucky is the most important person in his life, which is pretty horrible when Steve thinks about everything his ma does for him.

Bucky comes over the day after and Steve is all set to beg, but Bucky isn’t mad. He doesn’t say a word about it, just acts like nothing happened, like nothing’s changed between them.

So Steve puts the whole thing out of his head because he has Bucky back and that’s really all that matters.

He _tries_ to put it out of his head, at any rate. 

He does okay when he’s awake because he can stop himself whenever he realizes that he’s staring at Bucky’s mouth or wondering what Bucky’s hands would feel like under Steve’s clothes. But he doesn’t have the same control at night. No matter how hard he prays not to dream about it before he goes to bed, he still wakes up pretty much every morning with a mess in his pajamas and Bucky’s name on his tongue.

Steve’s pretty sure that doesn’t count as actually putting it out of his head.

~~~~~

It happens again a few weeks later.

It’s nice out, so they’re up on the roof. Bucky’s drunk and talking about the time he pushed Steve in the water fully clothed and Steve nearly drowned because the wet clothes were almost heavier than he was. Bucky saved him, of course, but he felt horrible about it for weeks even though Steve told him it was okay. Bucky can laugh about it now, which is good.

Steve doesn’t usually drink because it makes him really ill. Bucky always offers though and Steve’s not sure why, but tonight when Bucky held the bottle out, Steve took it. (It might have had something to do with the way Bucky’s eyes reflected the streetlights and how Steve’s not supposed to think about that anymore.) The first sip made him cough so violently that he almost passed out, but he took a second sip despite (or maybe because of) Bucky telling him he shouldn’t. He stops after the third sip because apparently that’s all it takes for him to get drunk.

Bucky’s arm is around him and his head is on Bucky’s shoulder. It’s nice. It’s like before. Steve’s a little sleepy so he closes his eyes and kind of floats on the sound of Bucky’s voice and the late summer air.

“Did you fall asleep on me?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Bucky laughs a little and the vibration travels into Steve’s chest in the most wonderful way.

“Steve?”

“Mmm?”

“Do you ever think about it?”

He thinks maybe he missed part of the conversation while he was floating. It’s harder than it should be to form actual words, but he finally says, “‘Bout what?”

“That day.”

And Steve is suddenly wide awake and completely sober because he knows exactly what Bucky is talking about, but there’s no good way to respond because he can’t tell Bucky the truth and Steve is a terrible liar. He can’t tell Bucky the truth because the truth is that Steve thinks about it _all the time_ and if he tells Bucky that, he could lose Bucky forever and that is the most— 

“Because I do. Sometimes.”

Steve has no idea what Bucky means by that, so the only thing he can do is try very, very hard to keep breathing.

Bucky doesn’t say anything else, but he pulls Steve a little tighter against his side, which Steve thinks says a lot under the circumstances.

Steve’s heart is nearly beating out of his chest and he’s hoping with every fiber of his being that he’s not wrong about this, that he hasn’t misjudged the situation. But Steve’s never been able to back down from anything, even when he should, not from a fight and apparently not from this either because he moves his head a little and kisses Bucky’s neck right above his shirt collar. He just barely licks at the skin with the tip of his tongue, which makes him either very brave or very, very stupid. 

It’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

Bucky kind of shudders, but he doesn’t move away, so Steve opens his mouth a little more, applies a little suction, gets an even stronger taste of Bucky’s warm-salt-tangy skin. He has never felt like this in his _life_. He pulls back and when he exhales on the still-wet skin, Bucky shudders again, harder this time.

Steve wants, more than he’s ever wanted anything, to make Bucky do that again. But he holds himself perfectly still because he needs Bucky to make some kind of move. He needs to know if Bucky wants this too.

Bucky turns his head and Steve lifts his off Bucky’s shoulder until they’re looking at each other. When Bucky closes his eyes and opens his mouth just slightly, Steve is lost. He closes the distance until they’re kissing again, kissing like last time, but more.

Steve doesn’t know how it happens, but he finds himself on his back with Bucky over him, not his whole body, just his shoulders, and it feels amazing. Bucky’s holding himself up with one arm and the other hand is in Steve’s hair, cushioning his head from the hard roof surface, and Bucky’s mouth is everywhere. Steve’s mouth and his neck and then — holy shit — his Adam’s apple. Steve thinks he’s going to die from this, from happiness more than anything else, and he doesn’t mind a bit.

But he screws it up, takes it too far. 

He twists a little and arches up because he may not entirely know what he’s doing, but his body seems to know what it needs. He presses his erection into Bucky’s hip and that’s all it takes. His whole world explodes, sensation sparking across every nerve ending, white light, and a roaring in his ears. It is so much better than the times he’s done this for himself that he can’t begin to describe it.

Steve can tell Bucky is moving nearby and he knows his heart is probably beating too fast to be healthy and he can’t quite catch his breath, but the only thing he can really feel is the pleasure flooding through him. 

He comes down from it just in time to see Bucky go inside and hear the door slam closed behind him.

Steve lays on the roof until his heart and his lungs are back to normal, and then he lays there for a few minutes, thinking about the terrified look on Bucky’s face right before he turned away.

~~~~~

That’s the start of a pattern. 

After the night on the roof (which Steve doesn’t even bother to _try_ to not think about), Bucky stays away from Steve for three days, even when they have the same classes at school. On the second day, Steve’s ma asks why Bucky hasn’t been over and Steve tells her that Bucky has a cold. He’s pretty sure his ma doesn’t believe him, because Steve is a _really_ bad liar, but she doesn’t say anything about it.

When Bucky finally does come by for dinner, he doesn’t want to talk about it, just like last time, but he still gives Steve a hug when he leaves, so Steve figures things are okay again.

A week later, they’re sitting on Steve’s bed after school, reading comics while Steve’s ma is still at work. Bucky puts his arm around Steve to read over his shoulder and Steve knows better than to do anything, but then Bucky pulls him closer, like he did on the roof, and Steve decides to take a risk. They wind up making out again, but Steve is careful not to get carried away this time, so even though Bucky runs out of the apartment as soon as they hear Steve’s ma in the hallway, he only avoids Steve for one day.

They make out a few more times and Bucky never stops running away at a certain point (or if they hear Steve’s ma), but he does eventually stop avoiding Steve after. 

Steve figures they can go a little further now that Bucky’s okay with things, so the next time they make out, he pushes Bucky’s shirt up and kisses his chest for a while. It’s pretty obvious that Bucky likes it, but when Steve’s hard-on presses against Bucky’s through their clothes, Bucky pushes Steve off and runs away.

He avoids Steve for two days again.

After that, Steve doesn’t worry about Bucky avoiding him. (He worries a little, if he’s being honest.) He doesn’t even worry too much that Bucky still goes out with girls sometimes (even though Steve hates thinking about it) because Bucky never sees the same girl more than twice, but he always comes back to Steve.

Always.

So that’s the pattern: Whatever the activity, Steve always starts it and Bucky always runs away, and then he avoids Steve for a little bit, until he doesn’t.

It’s not perfect, but Steve is pretty damn happy about it anyway. Happier than he ever thought he’d be able to be, for sure. He doesn’t even mind that they’re not having actual sex because they’ll get there someday. (Probably not for a while though, because Bucky didn’t come back for almost a week after Steve touched Bucky’s dick the first time, so Steve hasn’t done it again.) 

Steve knows Bucky isn’t as happy, that Bucky’s still bothered by all of this, by the things they do together and the fact that he likes it, and the way that they feel about each other. It’s why he still runs away, even when they only do things that Bucky’s gotten used to, things that don’t make Bucky avoid him.

But that’s only after. Before and during, Bucky seems happy too.

Steve thinks that means that Bucky will come around eventually.

~~~~~

It’s not that Steve never notices other guys. 

He’s an artist, so he appreciates men’s bodies, how the lines and planes come together to form shapes. He sees women’s bodies the same way, and he’s always liked that he has to use softer pencils to get them right. It doesn’t have to mean anything that his feelings and thoughts about the men he draws are different from his feelings and thoughts about the women in his sketches. And okay, he’s never drawn a naked woman, but that’s just because he’s never seen one. (Besides, his ma raised him to be respectful.)

He draws Bucky’s body a lot, always from memory because he doesn’t think Bucky would agree to pose. He’s only drawn Bucky’s face a couple of times. They’re his favorite drawings that he’s ever done, but he’s never shown them to anyone, including Bucky. Part of it is that Bucky would be scared of someone finding them even if the ones with his face aren’t naked drawings. 

The other part, the bigger part, is that even though they’re not sexual, they’re intimate in a way that Steve isn’t ready to share with anyone. He knows that the longing on Bucky’s face and the way his hands are reaching for something or someone just off the page reveals more about him than it does about Bucky.

He’s in love with Bucky. He knows that, but that doesn’t mean he’s queer. It’s different. Bucky is special.

~~~~~

When Bucky was 12, his father took a job on an oil rig.

It was good money, a lot more than he could possibly have made in the city. He was lucky to have it with how few jobs there were, and the ones that did exist paid next to nothing. Mr. Barnes made enough that Bucky could afford to leave food behind at Steve’s apartment whenever he visited. Steve’s ma hated it, but they couldn’t really afford to give it back or tell him to stop.

Mr. Barnes usually came home for Christmas and one more time during the year for a couple of weeks. Bucky stayed away from Steve more than usual during those times, and when they did see each other, they only ever did very, very normal things.

Two months after Bucky turns 19, they get back to Bucky’s place for dinner to find Bucky’s ma standing in the middle of the living room sobbing. She tries a few times to explain, but she’s too upset, so she just hands a piece of paper to Bucky and collapses on the couch.

It’s a telegram from the oil company saying there’s been an accident on the oil rig (they didn’t use the word explosion, but that’s what it was), that they haven’t located Mr. Barnes, and Bucky’s ma should wait for another telegram.

When Steve looks up from reading the telegram, Bucky’s face is totally blank, like he doesn’t have any idea what to do with this information (which is about how Steve feels too). It’s at least a full minute before Bucky shakes it off and moves over to the couch so his ma can cry on his shoulder. 

Steve isn’t sure what to do with himself, if he should leave or stay or what, but then Bucky nods towards the back and Steve remembers the girls and goes to comfort Bucky’s sisters. 

The next day seems to go on forever while they wait for the second telegram, and the day after that is chaos because the telegram says that Mr. Barnes is in critical condition and they don’t know if he’s going to live. Bucky and Steve make arrangements for Bucky’s ma to go to Texas, but after they drop her at the train station, everything moves in slow motion again because they’re waiting to find out if Mr. Barnes lived or not.

Mr. Barnes does live, but he’s in really bad shape and Bucky’s ma winds up staying in Texas for a whole month while he’s in the hospital. 

Bucky has to stay with his sisters and Steve wants to help any way he can, so he offers to take care of the girls while Bucky’s looking for a job, since it doesn't sound like Mr. Barnes will be able to work anytime soon.

Bucky says yes right away, even though Steve’s never really taken care of kids before. Bucky’s sisters already love him though, which makes it easier to figure out what to do. He comes over in the afternoon so there’s someone there when they get home from school and sometimes in the morning if Bucky has to be out early. He doesn’t live there or anything, but he stays over if it gets late or when Becca won’t go to sleep because she misses her mom. 

But it’s a little like living together might be, maybe, because Steve usually stays after the girls go to bed and has dinner with Bucky. If Bucky’s sure the girls are really sleeping, then they make out for a little while after they do the dishes. The only place for him to sleep when he stays over is with Bucky, but the girls don’t think anything of them sharing a bed because they know Steve still gets cold at night (even if it’s not as bad as it used to be). As long as Steve and Bucky are careful, they can kiss and touch under the covers. They try not to let it get too far because it’s a lot harder to keep that quiet, but it happens a couple of times.

Steve’s not happy _because_ Mr. Barnes is in the hospital, it’s just that Steve is happy at _the same time_. He still feels a little guilty about it though.

~~~~~

Bucky started working odd jobs when he was 14 even though he didn’t really need the money.

It was Steve who needed the money, and he wanted to work for it himself, but most of the jobs involved physical labor and no one was going to hire Steve for that. Bucky didn’t ask him or tell him he was going to do it. When Steve said he didn’t have to, Bucky said, “You’re my best friend,” and slung his arm around Steve’s shoulders and they didn’t talk about it again. So Steve hung out while Bucky worked and then Steve would take the money home and tell his ma that work was okay when she asked. (It’s the only lie he’s ever gotten away with.)

But now Bucky needs the money more than Steve because he has to take care of his family. Bucky’s had a part-time job since he graduated, but he starts working more right after the accident. At first, it’s just day work, but by the time his parents get back from Texas, he’s got a steady full-time job. It’s enough to cover rent and food, but it’s not even close to what Mr. Barnes was making on the oil rig.

Steve stops going over to Bucky’s apartment once Bucky’s ma brings Mr. Barnes home, but Bucky comes to Steve’s place after work most nights. He tells Steve that Mr. Barnes’s leg is twisted and ugly and painful, even after the two surgeries he had in Texas, and that Bucky’s ma is really worried and upset a lot of the time.

It’s harder to see each other after Bucky has to get a second job to pay for Mr. Barnes’s medical bills. When they do manage to get together, Steve finds out that the New York doctors said that it will be hard for Mr. Barnes to stand for any length of time, probably for the rest of his life, and that he’ll never walk right again. 

Which means Bucky has to support his whole family from now on because not being able to stand or walk means Mr. Barnes will likely never work again.

Steve understands when Bucky gets another part-time job, even though it means that they only see each other after church on Sundays. Their physical contact is pretty much limited to hand shakes, and Steve would be lying if he said he didn’t miss the other things, but being with Bucky is good even when they’re just talking and catching up.

Mostly, he just misses Bucky.

~~~~~

Obviously, the worst part of Bucky working so much is that they don’t get to spend any time together.

But Bucky not being around and Bucky’s ma being back to take care of the girls also means that Steve doesn’t have much of anything to do all day because even though the news says the economy is improving, Steve still can't find a steady job. 

He dreams of going to art school, but knows a dream is all it’ll ever be. Even if he had enough money for school, he’d study business or law or something like that. Something useful that would let him take care of his ma and make it so she doesn’t have to work endless shifts at the hospital, even if the money is better now that she’s a full nurse.

Since he can’t earn any money and he can’t afford school, he comes up with other ways to make use of his time. 

They charge for taking classes, but they give the class descriptions and book lists out for free if you ask, so he gathers up a bunch of them, puts them in order by difficulty, and makes his own curriculum. The library has pretty much every book he needs and there are plenty of free museums for him to use for life drawings. 

The only thing that costs money is pencils and paper. It’s the one luxury he’s ever allowed himself. He never told his ma, but he once bought a new set of pencils instead of his asthma medicine. 

When he’s drawing, his world narrows down to just him and the subject and charcoal on a page. He doesn’t think about being poor or sick or not having any prospects. He doesn’t even think about Bucky unless he’s the subject and even then, it’s different. It’s... removed somehow. Drawing allows him to stand back, to observe and appreciate the world without being in it. 

It gives him distance, and there are times he needs that more than food or medicine.

Most people wouldn’t understand that, but he thinks his ma gets it a little bit. A couple of years ago, he found out she was taking on more work just to get him pencils and paper. He told her to stop, that it wasn’t worth it for her to be scrubbing extra floors just for that. 

She pushed his hair back, rested her hand on the side of his face, and looked him right in the eye. She said, “Life has to be about more than food and rent and bills or it’s not worth living. You found that in your drawing and I’m going to make sure you keep it.”

He really loves his ma a lot.

~~~~~

Steve doesn’t think much of it the first time he doesn’t see Bucky after church on Sunday.

Bucky isn’t at church at all, so Steve figures one of the girls is probably sick or something. Bucky would’ve made sure he knew if anything serious was wrong, so he buries himself in his makeshift art classes in an attempt to not think about how much he misses Bucky. He’s pretty shocked to discover that it works. 

The second time he doesn’t see Bucky after church on Sunday is more of a concern, because Bucky’s actually in church that day, but he leaves right after the service instead of meeting Steve around the back so they can go for a walk like they usually do.

Steve doesn’t like it _at all_ , and his makeshift classes do not help even a little in taking his mind off it, but he decides he can deal with it for a little while because working all the time to support his family is not the only thing making Bucky’s life hard right now. 

The thing is, Bucky’s never really gotten along with his father.

Describing Mr. Barnes as strict is putting it mildly. He has a temper and doesn’t like to be disagreed with about anything, ever, so he gets mad a lot. He doesn’t have a sense of humor and he’s certainly never cared for Bucky’s. Most of what Steve knows about first aid comes from when Bucky was still learning (or testing, depending on your perspective) the limits of his father’s patience. 

Mr. Barnes being home, probably for good, was never going to be an easy adjustment, and him being in pain and basically helpless is only making things worse. Bucky didn’t say anything the last time they saw each other, but Steve knows anyway.

He doesn’t want to add to Bucky’s problems or make Bucky feel like he’s yet another person that Bucky is responsible for taking care of, so he doesn’t do anything, even though not seeing Bucky at all is making Steve pretty miserable.

After a few more Sundays go by where he barely even sees Bucky because he’s in and out of church so fast, Steve finally decides to say something. He at least wants Bucky to know he’s there for him. They don’t have to do anything, not even talk, if Bucky doesn’t want to. Bucky can just come over to get away from his dad for a while. Whatever he needs is fine with Steve.

Bucky works at the hardware store on Thursdays, so Steve waits outside until he’s done closing so they can talk before Bucky heads home.

He comes out of the store and after he recovers from his obvious shock at seeing Steve, he tells a pretty girl in a blue dress that he’ll be back in a minute and then walks a few feet away. Steve follows him so they can talk in private.

The conversation does not go as planned. 

Before Steve can even open his mouth, Bucky says, “I should have introduced you, I guess, but that was my girlfriend, Alice.”

Bucky has dated girls, though not for a while, but he’s never said the words “my girlfriend” in his life. Before Steve can even begin to process that, Bucky goes on to explain that he and Alice have been together nearly a month and things are going really well and with that and work, Bucky just hasn’t had a lot of time for anything else.

Then he says, “I usually have dinner with her family after church on Sundays, so you don’t have to wait for me, if you still have been. Look, the movie we’re seeing starts pretty soon, so I gotta run.”

Steve tries to say something, he has no idea what, just something — _anything_ — that will get Bucky to stay, to explain, to make any part of this make sense.

But he doesn’t get the chance. 

Bucky says, “See ya later,” and jogs across the street to Alice. He takes her hand and kisses her on the mouth and they head off around the corner.

He didn’t look at Steve once the entire time.


	2. The place I ran to

The rest of 1936 is pretty bad, but 1937 is the worst year of Steve’s life. So far.

He tried to talk to Bucky a few times to find out what the hell was going on, even though having Bucky ignore him or avoid him or pretend not to see him was like a punch to the gut every single time. After a while, it started to feel less like fighting for something and more like desperation. Losing Bucky was going to hurt no matter what, but adding pathetic on top of that wasn’t helping.

It turns out Steve is capable of backing down from a fight. Bucky would be thrilled. If Bucky were speaking to him.

The day Steve does finally see more than a glimpse of Bucky is a complete accident.

Steve is picking up some things for his ma at the grocery store on 92nd. When he comes into the aisle where the canned food is and looks up from his list, Bucky is standing at the end of the row. Bucky looks about as stunned as Steve feels. They stare at each other until long past the point where it’s strange.

Bucky will always look good to Steve, even after everything, but if he’s being objective, Bucky doesn’t look all that great. He looks kind of bad, actually. He’s tired, which could be from working so much, but he’s thinner too. His hair is too long and kind of messy, which isn’t like him. He has a black eye.

Steve prepares himself for the gut punch he knows is coming when Bucky ignores him and goes to get the green beans on his ma’s shopping list. He keeps waiting for Bucky to turn his back and leave, but he doesn’t. He just stands there while Steve comes towards him until they’re two feet apart, which is about the same distance as when Bucky said, “See ya later.”

It’s been months, but Steve still remembers it with perfect clarity. 

After all that time trying to talk to Bucky, now that he’s in front of him, Steve doesn’t know what to say. He wants to say something like, _You’re an asshole for leaving after all the years we’ve known each other._ Or maybe ask what the hell is going on with him. But Steve is who he is, so the words most likely to actually come out of his mouth are _I miss you,_ which is both true and the very worst thing he could say.

Luckily, Bucky saves him from himself. He smiles, big and wide and fake, and says, “Hey man, how ya been?” like Steve is just some guy from the neighborhood that Bucky hasn’t seen in a while. Steve decides that Bucky ignoring him would have been better than this.

At least he’s looking at Steve this time. 

They make small talk for a few minutes — small talk! with Bucky! what the hell?! — and then Bucky makes some excuse and says he has to go. The excuse is bullshit. The entire _conversation_ is bullshit.

Bucky left him standing on the sidewalk with barely even a goodbye after 12 years of friendship. After _everything_. He knew how Steve felt about him, knew he was the only person Steve had besides his ma, and ditched him anyway. He took off like it was nothing. Like _Steve_ was nothing.

Steve should let him go. He knows this. He deserves better, even if he’s not likely to ever get it.

But it’s Bucky, and maybe he got that black eye in a fight, but Steve doesn’t think so.

“Buck, wait.” Bucky pauses, his whole body tense, but he turns around to look at Steve. The fake smile is gone, which is an improvement. “I know we’re not“ — he’s going to say friends but he physically _can’t_ — “close anymore, but if you ever need anything, if you’re in trouble or something, you can still come to me.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, but Steve can tell he wants to, can tell how hard he’s fighting to keep himself in check, even if Steve doesn’t understand why. 

Bucky says, “I know,” in a small voice and then all but runs away from Steve and out of the store.

Steve _hates_ the traitorous little part of his heart that starts to hope. 

~~~~~

The only good thing that happens in 1937 is that Steve finally gets and keeps a job.

He always makes a point of talking to the owner of the art supply store when he goes in to buy pencils and paper. He and Frank have similar tastes, even though they disagree about the Impressionists. It’s nice to have someone to talk to, especially about art, which Steve is both knowledgeable and passionate about.

Sometimes, he goes to the store even when he can’t afford to buy anything. He visits so often that Frank’s daughter Patty calls for her dad as soon as Steve comes in the door. He doesn’t really talk to her, but she has a really pretty smile and doesn’t seem to mind that she has to watch the store while he and Frank talk.

He isn’t angling for a job, but when the girl who works the counter in the morning quits to get married, he figures it can’t hurt to ask. Frank hires him on the spot and is as flexible as possible whenever Steve gets sick. 

The pay isn’t great, but he loves it. All the customers know about art and most of them don’t mind chatting for a few minutes while he’s ringing them up. A few of the regulars will even stay until it’s slow and critique his work for him. (It’s slow a lot of the time, which is great on the one hand, but makes Steve worry about how long he’ll have a job.) 

He learns a ton and even makes a couple of friends. They’re not like Bucky, but it’s not nothing.

Especially in 1937.

~~~~~

1937 is also the year that Steve realizes he’s queer. 

Peter is one of the regulars at the store. He always stays to critique Steve’s work, which Steve really appreciates because Peter praises what’s good and is honest but not harsh about what isn’t. It’s the best kind of feedback that Steve could hope for and he can see how his work has improved because of it.

Peter is tall, with dark hair and blue eyes and he smiles at Steve and laughs at his jokes and says nice things about his art.

One time, Peter even goes with him to the park on a Saturday and Steve draws while Peter paints. It’s the best day Steve’s had since — in a while.

That night, Steve has his first sex dream about someone other than Bucky. He doesn’t enjoy it, and he’s not going to let it ruin what might be an actual friendship with Peter. It’s just frustration, is all. Steve hasn’t been touched by anyone in nearly a year, which is a long time for an 18 year old. 

It happens again. And a few more times after that, but Steve still thinks it’s just that Peter is the first person that’s been nice to him in a long time, except maybe for Frank.

Then he meets Joey. He’s the new counter guy at the store on 92nd. (He doesn’t think of it as the store where he ran into Bucky because he’s been going there for years and that only happened once.) They talk about baseball and the economy and whether FDR is going to win a second term.

Joey is on the tall side with brown hair and brown eyes and he has a really nice smile.

It doesn’t take long for Joey to make an appearance in Steve’s dreams.

Steve can’t come up with an excuse to dismiss it with this time, so he pretty much has to accept that it’s not just because Bucky is special (though he is, even after treating Steve like shit). It’s because Steve is queer.

He knows better than to act on it, even with Peter, who he’s pretty sure is also queer. (He has enough problems without getting branded a pervert and probably arrested.) Being queer means being alone. It’s unfortunate, but it’s the way things are. 

Being alone was always the most likely outcome for him anyway given the odds that any dame would pick _him_ as a husband. It shouldn’t be that hard to deal with because the only thing that’s changing for him is the reason he’ll be alone.

Except that before, there was still at least a possibility, no matter how remote, that there’d be a woman willing to look past Steve’s poor health and lack of prospects and spend the rest of her life with him.

But now, even if that woman existed, it wouldn’t do him any good.

Losing that possibility of not spending his life alone, of spending his life _with_ someone, is the hardest thing about figuring out he’s queer.

~~~~~

His ma gets a cold in mid-September. 

They avoid each other so that Steve doesn’t catch it, which is hard to do in a two room apartment, but they manage. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.

That’s probably why it takes him as long as it does to notice she’s lost some weight. He asks if she’s feeling okay. She says she’s fine and smiles and tells him to do the dishes.

Steve knows she’s lying. He vows to keep a closer eye on her.

Two days later, she can’t stop coughing and there’s blood on the tissue when she moves it away from her mouth. He calls an ambulance and hates himself for letting it get this far.

The diagnosis isn’t surprising and they admit her to the ward where she works, but TB is highly contagious and Steve’s immune system is weak on a good day, so he’s not allowed to see her. They tell him he shouldn’t even be in the hospital with how easy he gets sick, so he sits on a bench outside.

That’s where he is two weeks later when they come to tell him she’s dead.

~~~~~

Bucky is at the church for the funeral service.

It’s been months since they last saw each other, and Steve sure didn’t tell him about the funeral, so he must have heard around the neighborhood. Maybe Steve should have expected it, but he hasn’t been thinking all that clearly the last few days, so it catches him off guard. He’s there with his whole family, though Mr. Barnes seems pretty disgruntled about it. 

Bucky looks better than he did that day in the store, but his expression is still cloudy and Steve doesn’t think it’s just because of the funeral, even though he knows Bucky liked his ma. He’s got this air of defeat around him that seems like it’s been there longer than just the handful of days that Steve’s ma has been dead.

His mother is dead.

He sits by himself in the front row for the service because there isn’t any other family. It was just the two of them. Always had been. Bucky would be sitting with him if this had happened last year, but it doesn’t matter now.

The service is a blur, even his own eulogy. He remembers shaking some hands and being hugged. One of the hugs might have been from Bucky, but he’s not sure. He doesn’t know how he gets to the cemetery.

When he was younger, his ma brought him to see his dad every year on his dad’s birthday. His dad’s birthday is in June, so it was usually warm enough for Steve to be outside for a while without getting cold. His ma would tell him a funny story about his dad, a different one every year, then they’d clean off the headstone and leave some flowers and go home.

They stopped doing that a few years ago, but Steve can’t remember why.

He watches them put his ma in the ground, then he cleans off his dad’s headstone and goes home. He doesn’t have any flowers to leave.

Bucky is waiting outside Steve’s building when he gets there. He walks upstairs with Steve, says they looked for him after to give him a ride to the cemetery. He jokes about putting the couch cushions on the floor like when they were kids and shining his shoes or something.

Then he puts his hand on Steve’s shoulder, the first time he’s touched Steve in over a year, and says Steve doesn’t have to be alone because Bucky will be there ‘til the end of the line.

Steve doesn’t punch him.

He says something, he doesn’t know what, so that Bucky will think he’s fine and leave. 

Once he’s inside, he takes off his suit and lays down on the bed and stares at the ceiling.

He doesn’t cry.

~~~~~

It’s 1937, so Steve knows better than to think Bucky’s going to follow through on his promise.

In any other year, at any other time of his life, he would have believed that Bucky putting his hand on Steve’s shoulder after Steve buried his ma and saying he’d be there “‘til the end of the line” meant Bucky had changed his mind and would start being Steve’s friend again.

But not in 1937. Not after everything that’s happened. Bucky is gone and Steve doesn’t have any more funerals for him to attend, so Steve knows he won’t be back.

Knowing that doesn’t stop him from dreaming about Bucky though, more often than he’d like to admit. After all these years, he’s accepted that he has absolutely no control over his subconscious, so there’s not much he can do about that.

He thinks about Bucky when he’s awake sometimes. It’s gotten to the point where he can remember the good parts of being with Bucky, both before and after they started being... whatever they were, without it making him miserable about the current state of his life. A little bit miserable, maybe, but not as bad as before. It’s better now (the misery, not his life, because his life is _definitely_ worse without either his ma or Bucky in it).

He worries about Bucky a little too, because of the black eye and the way he looked so beaten down at the funeral. Steve knows it’s because of Bucky’s dad, though he still doesn’t understand what that had to do with him. He hadn’t even really spoken to Mr. Barnes since he went to work on the oil rig when Steve was 11.

He heard a rumor a while back that Mr. Barnes was arrested for disturbing the peace outside the bar on Quincy. It probably wasn’t true because he didn’t think Mr. Barnes got out much after his accident. Steve is ashamed of how much pleasure he took when he first heard. 

He’s probably less ashamed than he should be, though.

~~~~~

Things start to turn around at the end of 1937, but he prefers to count the good stuff as part of 1938 so he can just write off the whole terrible year.

Steve had to move out of the apartment where he and his ma had lived for most of his life because losing his ma also meant losing her income and he couldn’t afford the rent. His new studio apartment is drafty and the water is questionable on a good day, but it’s cheaper, and that was really his only qualification.

Having a different address is only one of the reasons that he’s pretty shocked when he comes home from work one night about three weeks after the funeral to find Bucky sitting on the steps of his new building.

He stops dead and just kind of stares, trying to recall if hallucinations are a side effect of any of his medications.

But then Steve starts shivering because it’s November and close to freezing and his coat does nothing against the wind. Bucky jumps up and grabs the grocery bag Steve is carrying and puts his arm around Steve’s shoulders to keep him warm like he used to and keeps it there all the way to Steve’s apartment.

Steve hates himself, but he wants to cry at how good it feels.

Bucky comes in and sits on the only chair and waits while Steve puts the groceries away. There’s nowhere else for Steve to sit, so he leans against the wall and decides to let Bucky say whatever he came here to say before Steve kicks him out.

What Bucky says is as unexpected as what he said right before “see ya later.”

Bucky looks at him — already an improvement over that day — and says, “This is kind of a long story and there’s a lot of it where I’m a complete asshole, but wait ‘til the end to make up your mind about how much of an asshole I still am, okay?”

Steve thinks Bucky’s going to have to do an awful lot in this story for Steve to think he’s any less of an asshole, but he nods in agreement.

The story starts with something that happened a long time ago that Steve never knew about. Bucky didn’t even know about it until earlier this year. It starts with Mr. Barnes deciding Steve was queer. When Steve was 11. Steve can’t help the bitterness that comes with finding out that Mr. Barnes apparently knew Steve better than he knew himself. He doesn’t say that though.

“So he told my ma that I wasn’t allowed to be friends with you anymore. She didn’t want to do it, but they argued about it a bunch of times and she knew he wasn’t going to give up on it, so she said she’d take care of it. But, I mean, you know how much my ma likes you, so she told me I should go to your place when we wanted to hang out because she had to take care of the girls.”

Steve is pretty sure Bucky’s ma is his favorite person ever (at least right now), but all he says is, “That was nice of her,” because he wants to get to the part where Bucky is an asshole and he doesn’t feel even a little bad for looking forward to what Bucky has to say about that part.

“She didn’t change her rules when he went to Texas ‘cause he still came back those two times a year, and she didn’t want the girls to say anything about you being around. They did a few times because of how Kate used to tag along with us when she got older, but ma always found some way to cover it up, like it was just at school or something.”

Bucky’s ma is Steve’s favorite person of _all time_ , even including Bucky, because she’s the only reason they were friends past the age of 11 and he’ll always be grateful for that, even if they’re never friends (or anything else) again. 

“I didn’t say anything, but things were pretty bad when he came back after his accident,” — Steve wonders how dumb Bucky thinks he is that he thinks Steve didn’t figure that one out on his own — “Not right away, because of all the doctor visits, but once he was home all the time, he started to… I mean, you know, right?” Bucky pauses and looks up at him

Steve knows his resolve to stay angry is in trouble because Bucky hasn’t even gotten to the part of the story where he’s an asshole and Steve is already feeling bad for him. “I remember.”

Bucky smiles a little, but then his face falls into a frown. “I ignored him as best I could at first, but you know how he gets to me and I just couldn’t hold my tongue all the time. I tried, Steve, I really did.” He looks up again and he’s got this expression on his face that Steve’s never seen before, like he’s desperate for Steve to believe him. 

Steve decides he’s pretty screwed on holding out until the end of the story. “I know you did, Buck.”

Bucky nods, clearly relieved, and tells Steve the part he already knew from Bucky’s black eye at the store all those months ago. Mr. Barnes can’t walk straight or stand for long periods, but apparently he can still punch his son for mouthing off or making a joke or, really, for being nearby.

“I wanted to just beat the shit out of him and leave and never see him again, but I had my ma and the girls to think about. I mean, I’m the only income for all of us now, so I tried to see you as much as I could, but it was hard with work and everything and then I didn’t want you to worry about, you know, all of that,” he gestures at his face, “so it was mostly just after church at that point.”

Steve is pretty horrified to realize that Mr. Barnes was beating up on Bucky even before the girlfriend thing, and Steve _never noticed_. “Jesus, Buck, why didn’t you _say_ anything? I would’ve—”

“There was nothing to do, Steve! For you or anyone else. It wasn’t like I could go anywhere.” Bucky’s angry, but it’s not at Steve. Bucky only looks like that when he’s thinking about Mr. Barnes.

“No, but you could have _talked_ to me. I could have helped you, even if I couldn’t change what was going on.”

Bucky sags in defeat. “I know you would’ve, but I didn’t want to put that on you. You know how you get when there’s a problem you can’t fix.”

Steve knows they’re not going to ever settle this one, but he gets what Bucky means. He says, “Yeah, okay,” which Bucky takes to mean he should continue, so Bucky tells him that things got a lot worse once Mr. Barnes found out that Steve and Bucky were still friends. He called Steve all kinds of names (Bucky doesn’t say them, but Steve can guess) and said Bucky better never be like that, not his son, not under his roof, and on and on.

“It was like that for _days_ , every minute I was at home, and it was scaring ma and the girls because he was so mad all the time and I just... Steve, I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

Bucky admits that this is the part where he becomes an asshole. Steve doesn’t disagree, but he feels pretty bad for thinking that, based on what he’s heard so far.

“I know I didn’t handle it well,” — Steve snorts — “I probably handled it in the worst possible way,” Bucky amends, “but I couldn’t think straight with how mad I was at him all the time and worrying about ma and the girls and working as much as I was.”

Then Bucky says, “And I know it was worse because of, you know, everything with us,” — he won’t look at Steve when he says it, so Steve knows he’s not referring to their friendship — “but I didn’t know what else to do except give him what he wanted.”

Bucky stops talking for a minute and looks down and Steve thinks it’s possible that he’s crying, which Steve has only seen Bucky do twice and both times, it was from physical pain. When he looks back up, he’s not crying exactly, but his eyes are reflecting the light differently. Steve fights the urge to comfort Bucky because he needs to hear the rest before he can decide if Bucky deserves Steve’s comfort.

“He didn’t believe me at first, but then my ma told him that I hadn’t been going behind anyone’s back and about what she’d done and he was so mad that I thought he might... but he didn’t. He yelled at her a lot, but he didn’t _do_ anything.” Bucky’s voice is hard and his hands are clenched into fists. 

Bucky clears his throat and his voice is a little easier when he continues. “That’s when my ma told me the whole thing from when we were kids and I said she never should have told him because he’d switched his temper to her, but she said it was okay, that she’d be fine. And I guess it was another asshole thing to do, but I let her take it for a while,” he sits up straight, looks right at Steve. “It was just yelling, I would never have let him—”

“Of course not.” Steve knows with absolute certainty that if Mr. Barnes ever touched Bucky’s ma or the girls that Bucky would kill him. Steve would help.

Bucky nods and relaxes a little and admits that it did get better for him for him at home after that, but that he still felt terrible for the way he’d treated Steve, “and I missed you fucking _constantly_ ,” — Steve supposes it’s nice to know the feeling was mutual, even if it is pretty cold comfort at this point — “but I couldn’t get my head around what I’d done. It was like it was too big of an idea, how much I’d fucked up and how much it must have hurt you.”

Steve understands ideas that are too big for your brain — he still can’t comprehend his ma being dead.

“My dad and I started fighting again after a while because no peace was going to last between us, no matter what I did, especially not with how much he _hates_ that I’m the one supporting him. Which meant I gave you up for fucking nothing and all I could think was how I wanted to tell you how stupid and sorry I was. But how do you even apologize for something like that? What can you even say?

“And then that day at the store, seeing you was like a knife right in my chest because you were exactly the person I wanted to see and also the person I was fucking terrified of. And I couldn’t come up with anything to say, not one word, so I said some bullshit, I honestly don’t even know what I said.”

Steve feels pathetic for the fact that he remembers most of it, but he’s certainly not about to admit that to anyone, least of all Bucky. 

“Did it at least help to know you had someone to go to?”

He can’t really stop his mouth from falling open when Bucky says, “No, it made it so much worse. I couldn’t fucking believe, after how horrible I’d been to you, after all that, you were _nice to me_. It was like I had to start all over again trying to understand how I could have hurt you the way I did.”

People have always told Steve he was too nice for his own good. He _fully_ understands what that means now.

“So I went back to not even being able to think about you, but when I heard about your ma, all I could think about was you being alone and I—”

All of Steve’s sympathy evaporates in an instant. “Fuck you, Bucky. I don’t need your fucking pity.” Steve’s angry enough to literally throw Bucky out, size difference be damned.

Bucky holds up his hands and leans away from Steve. “Wait, okay, just, wait. I said that wrong. Let me finish, Steve. Please.”

Steve’s not sure he’s ever been this mad in his life, but it’s Bucky and as much as Steve wants to kick him out (of his apartment and his life) once and for all, he can’t bring himself to do it, not after everything they’ve been through together. He crosses his arms over his chest and glares. “Fine. Finish.”

“I’m not here because I feel sorry for you. That isn’t what I meant. I meant that thinking of you being alone was the first time I really let myself think about _you_ at all. I was always thinking about what I’d done _to_ you, but not _about_ you. And once I started, I realized how important you are to me, how much better my life was when you were in it. _Because_ you were in it. 

“I know I was fucking horrible to you. I know the only decent thing I’ve done since that bastard came back was to step up to take care of my ma and my sisters. Everything else was fucking awful and I know you got the worst of it. I know that. I swear I do. There’s nothing I can say to take back what I did, but I _am_ sorry, Steve. I am so _fucking_ sorry.” 

Bucky takes a few breaths and his voice is hoarse when he continues, like he’s crying, but without the tears. “I do want to help you, but not because I feel sorry for you. I want to help because you’re my best friend, even though I haven’t acted like it in forever. And I do want you back in my life, but I know this isn’t about me. I’m the one who fucked up and you’re the one who got hurt, so this is about what _you_ want. If you want us to be friends again, then I’ll be here, Steve, I swear to God I will.

“I know there’s no reason for you to trust that, to trust me, after what I did. You’re right not to. But I swear I’m telling you the truth. You are more important than what he thinks or what he does. So if you want me back, then I’m here.”

It’s not easy to resist when someone you’ve loved all your life is sincerely begging you for forgiveness, but Steve (just barely) manages it. Right now, he doesn’t know what to say or think or feel. He asks for some time to figure out what he wants and Bucky says of course and goes to leave. He lingers by the door for a bit, but then his shoulders sag and he opens the door and walks out, closing the door softly behind him.

Steve’s pretty sure Bucky was fighting the urge to turn around and hug him.

~~~~~

Steve has a pretty vivid imagination, but he could never have come up with a scenario where he would need to seriously consider whether Bucky should be in his life.

He believes that Bucky’s apology was genuine and knowing all the circumstances does change things, but it doesn’t _fix_ them. Steve is still hurt by what happened, still in pain because of what Bucky did. But the worst part, the part he’s not sure can be fixed, is that Bucky was right. Steve doesn’t trust him. 

He doesn’t trust Bucky not to hurt him, not to get to a point where he leaves Steve behind, where he turns his back and walks away again. He _can’t_ because while Bucky understands the consequences of his actions, he doesn’t understand the reason behind them. He thinks it was anger at his father and the pressure he was under to support his family, and those things certainly contributed, but they aren’t what caused it.

What caused it was Bucky being afraid of the way he feels about Steve.

Steve may have suspected that was the reason before, but he knows it for sure now. He knows because Bucky talked about leaving him and avoiding him and how terrible it was of him to do those things, but he never talked about _how_ he did it. 

He could have just told Steve he was too busy, that he had too much going on with his family or was working too much, and didn’t have time for Steve anymore. He could have made up something that he was mad at Steve for or said that Steve wasn’t worth his time because he had other, cooler friends to hang out with. 

What he did instead was tell Steve that he had a girlfriend and then go across the street and kiss her where Steve could still see. What did he was to _literally_ walk away from Steve to be with his girlfriend.

Steve doesn’t think Bucky was consciously trying to communicate anything by going about it that way, but it was a statement. It was a statement about Steve being queer and Bucky being normal, but not because Bucky has a problem with Steve being queer.

Bucky has a problem with _Bucky_ being queer.

Maybe it’s not all the time. Maybe it’s just with Steve. But Bucky _is_ queer because you don’t do what they did, you don’t _enjoy_ what they did, if you’re not at least a little queer, and Bucky did enjoy it, Steve knows that for sure.

He’d say things sometimes, little comments that let Steve know he wanted to be kissed, or move his body in a way that meant he wanted Steve to touch him. But he never actually asked for it and he never, ever reached for Steve first. He wanted it to happen, but didn’t want to have to admit that’s what he wanted. Especially to himself.

Bucky was never really okay with the fact that he liked what they did together. That’s what their “pattern” was about and Steve thought the way that the avoidance would shorten and eventually stop meant it was getting better, that Bucky was starting to become more comfortable with things. Maybe Steve just convinced himself of that because he wanted it so badly, or maybe it really was getting better until Bucky’s father came home and made Bucky remember why it was wrong to feel that way. 

Steve will probably never know for sure whether he imagined it or not, but it doesn’t matter because it’s clear from the way Bucky said “everything with us” and couldn’t look Steve in the eye that Bucky’s not okay with it _now_. They dealt with that before, but maybe they shouldn’t have. Or at least not the way that they did. Maybe Steve shouldn’t have pushed for more physically or maybe — probably — he should have pushed Bucky to talk about it rather than just acting on what he thought Bucky wanted.

But those could haves and should haves don’t really matter either. (Which doesn’t mean that Steve won’t still torture himself about them.) What matters is that Bucky is no longer willing to act on it in spite of his fear. That’s what he was trying to tell Steve by leaving him the way that he did.

He’s never doubted that Bucky loves him, not for a minute, not even when he walked away or in all the time he was gone. But Bucky is only willing, or maybe only capable, of loving him as a friend and Steve wants more. Steve wants _everything_.

He wants them to be together, to share their lives with each other, fully and completely. He wants them to live together and grow old together, even if they’re the only ones who know that it’s because they love each other, that they are _in love_ with each other. 

Steve has never denied that he doesn’t want to be alone forever. It was the hardest thing to accept about being queer, by far. And he knows that Bucky is his only chance to avoid that because even if Steve could find a woman desperate enough to marry him, he’s not going to spend the rest of his life pretending to be something he’s not. He’ll hide, because he has to, but he’s not going to live a lie.

So yes, he doesn’t want to be alone, but that isn’t why he kissed Bucky that first time, why he started all of this. He kissed Bucky because he loved him. Because loving Bucky is as much a part of him as his inability to back down from a fight and that meant there was no way for Steve not to act on his feelings, to just give up without even trying.

What Steve knows now that he didn’t before is that whatever happened in the past is in the past and whatever dreams Steve had of a future together can’t ever become reality.

Despite what Bucky said when he apologized, the real question isn’t about what Steve wants. It’s about whether Steve can live within the limits of Bucky’s fear and still be who he is because Steve is in love with Bucky. It’s been a part of him practically from the first day they met, even if it took him a long time to name it, and the last year has proven that he doesn’t know how to stop regardless of the fact that Bucky isn’t — and won’t ever be — in love with Steve the same way.

But the last year has also proven that his life is better with Bucky in it than it is without him. Steve’s made some friends and it’s good that he has other people now, that his life is at least a little bigger and fuller than it was. His new friends all know more about art and literature than Bucky does, but none of them know more about Steve. No one has ever known Steve like Bucky does and he doesn’t think anyone ever will.

More than anything else, Steve wants them to always have each other, and if friendship is all Bucky can offer, then Steve will learn to live with that. 


	3. Epilogue (Stark Expo, June 1943)

Bucky’s going dancing, a girl on each arm, just like he’s done lots of times before.

Steve watches until Bucky fully disappears into the crowd, and then he stares at the spot where he last saw him for a few more minutes and all he can think is that he didn’t tell Bucky he loved him.

He knows Bucky knows, just like Steve does about Bucky, but Steve has never actually said the words. He wanted to, a million times, but he never did. Not even as a friend. And now it might be too late because this isn’t like all the other times that Bucky’s gone dancing. 

This time is different because tomorrow morning, Bucky is getting on a ship to go to England to join a war where men are being wounded, being killed, on a daily basis. He could be one of them. 

Bucky could die.

It’s been more than five years, and it doesn’t happen every day anymore, but there are still times that Steve questions his decision to accept being just Bucky’s friend, because he might have stopped acting on his feelings, but they haven’t changed. He was right about not being able to stop being in love with Bucky, no matter how hard he tries, no matter how much it hurts to have Bucky  _ right there _ as a constant reminder of all the things he wants, but will never have.

In the end though, he knows it was the right thing to do. It allowed them to continue to be in each other’s lives, to stay together, and that was the best and most important thing, for both of them.

Regardless of what form it takes, they belong side by side, together until the end of the line. Not even a war changes that.

Steve turns around and goes into the recruiting station. 

~*~ End ~*~


End file.
